A Legend Begins
by SeriousSavage
Summary: (Rewrite of The Hooded Angel) Zella only wanted one thing: to do what she knew to be right. Well, not exactly. She also wanted to stay out of trouble and keep her identity a secret. When the thing she fears most happens, she will go to any length to reverse it, even if it means hurting herself and those around her. Rated T just to be safe.
1. We Begin Again

**Thanks for opening up this story! I hope the first chapter doesn't bore you to death. **

**A Note to my faithful readers of THA: Thank you for your patience and your dedication to this story. I hope the rewrite makes up for my absence? (If you read the preview I posted on Hooded Angel, you can just skip to the page break) **

**To any new readers: Thank you for your interest! Your opinions and input mean a lot to me and I hope this story if worth your time.**

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Chapter 1: We Begin Again

This was it; The start of something great. I had taken some of my old clothes and sewn them together to make a mismatched hooded cloak. I had bought an old saddle and used the leather to make a well-fitted mask.

I waited for my parents to retire for the night before slipping off of the estate. I walked quietly through the dark streets, my disguise tucked neatly under my arm. I avoided people as I went, and soon reached the poor parts of the small city. I slipped into the trees on the outskirts of the fields and pulled on my cloak and mask. I walked deeper into the woods, slowly making my way to where I had hidden my horse, Tomahawk. She nickered softly as I untied her and lead her to the field on the very edge of town.

A plow was sitting out in the field, waiting to be put to work. I had heard in the marketplace a few days ago that the family's plow horse had died and they didn't have the money to replace it. Without the field plowed, they couldn't plant crops and would lose everything.

I lead Toma to stand in front of the plow while I slipped into the family's barn to find the straps. It took me close to an hour to find them, figure out how to use them, and hook them up to both the plow and my horse. It was close to midnight by the time I was able to get started plowing.

As the daughter of the Lord of the city, I never had to do any manual labor. My muscles were weak, and I was exhausted by the time we completed one row, but I kept going, determined to complete what I risked so much to do. Tomahawk, who was bred to be a work horse but not a plow horse, faithfully trudged through half of the field before slowing down.

It was after three in the morning, and we were both sweating despite the cold spring air. Tired and sore, I spoke to Toma quietly as we slowly, yet surely, continued to plow the field. It was nearing dawn when we finally finished and both fell asleep where we were standing. I promised myself two minutes of rest before releasing the horse and heading home.

I must have lost track of time, because the next thing I knew there was shouting coming from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see the excited family yelling and waving enthusiastically as they ran my way. I pulled Tomahawk free of the leather straps as quickly as I could, jumped onto her back, and kicked her as hard I could. She shot off, startled, and leaped the fence.

That was when I started running, and I haven't stopped since.

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It had been 14 months since I became the Hooded Angel. After that first night, I was able to stay around for a month, secretly helping wherever I could, but my fame soon made it too dangerous to stay and I had to leave our small town. My father, lord of the city, thought that the Angel was a revolutionary, here to overthrow our "perfectly good government and infest us with chaos." I had to lay low while I convinced him to send me to Minas Tirith to be safe from "the scheming hound".

I snuck away from Minas Tirith one night and rode Freyja, the prized Mearas mare my father bought for me from Rohan, back home. I sent her back to the estate without me and slipped around the outskirts of town to collect Tomahawk, the red-and-white mountain horse I secretly bought a couple months before I left. The stable boy had been secretly caring for her in my absence, without my father's knowledge.

We left the makeshift barn that afternoon and rode hard for Edoras. Even over the rough terrain of the Misty Mountains, we made good time and arrived in just under a week. Once there, I continued my work as the Hooded Angel. I was able to stay in Edoras and the surrounding area for just under a year, refining my skills, building muscle, and helping people, before I became too famous for my own good and had too leave.

I appears that most places viewed me more as a political enemy than a helpful ally, so I had to keep moving.

I had been traveling for over a month and was finally in Bree. I had taken a scenic route, helping in odd places and little towns in hopes of throwing anyone who might have been following me off of my trail.

I paused outside the city, debating my options. I could go in as the Angel, but I would probably get in a fight and, even though I was training as hard as I could as often as I could, I wasn't ready for that. My other option was to enter as myself, Zella, but that could also be dangerous. A young, unmarried girl typically doesn't travel on her own, and the fact that I am is just asking for trouble.

I decided that I would leave Tomahawk, and the Hooded Angel, outside the city and head for The Prancing Pony. I had heard some good things about the owner of the tavern and was hoping to receive a friendly welcome.

I entered the tavern and went straight up to the counter, trying to avoid everyone. Social settings, like this one, were great for gossip and information, but not this late at night with this many drunks running around. Right now, I just wanted to get a bed and go to sleep.

"What can I do for you, young miss?" A kind man asked as I approached the front counter. I assumed this was Mr. Butterbur.

"I'm looking for a room for the night, and a warm meal," I said politely.

He looked at me for a moment before nodded and ruffling around in a drawer.

"Ah, here we are!" he exclaimed as he pulled out a key.

He lead me to a room on the second floor and handed me the key. "I'll send someone up with a meal."

I thanked and paid him before flopping down on the bed. It had been a while since I was able to sleep in a real bed, and having a warm place to sleep for the night seemed like a luxury I hadn't been able to have since I left home.

A knock on the door dragged me out of my dozing and off the bed. I opened it and found an empty hallway. I was about it shut it and go back to my half-asleep state when someone cleared their throat. I glanced down and saw a little hobbit holding a tray of food.

"Oh, um... Hi," I stuttered, not really sure how to recover from completely overlooking him. "You can just go set that by the window."

"Of course, miss. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thank you. That will be all for the night."

He left and I sank down into the chair by the window. I stared out into the dark as I slowly ate my bread. I was about to nod off when a bit of movement caught my eye. I strained to see in the gloom, but could make out four figures rushing into the Pony and out of the rain, glancing over their shoulders as they went.

Well, well, well. Looks like some work just rolled in.


	2. Stalker Practice

** So sorry this took forever to update. You all probably hate me for being inconsistent. So so sorry. I'm trying to be better, but I always run out of ideas (hence the ends of chapters). Anyways, enjoy, and I'll update again "soon" (read: whenever I get bored enough to force myself to write). **

Chapter 2: Stalker Practice

I woke up the next morning to a knock on the door. The same little hobbit from the night before had brought breakfast.

"Good morning, miss!" he greeted enthusiastically. There was a hint of amusement in his voice, making me feel self conscious about my messy hair. I hadn't thought to smooth it down before opening the door.

"What time is it?" I asked groggily as he set the tray down and picked up the empty one from last night.

"About six-thirty, miss," he paused by the door, holding the tray of dirty dishes. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes, actually. Four hobbits came in last night, are they still here? I want to buy them a drink."

"Oh, I'm sorry, miss. They just left. Seemed urgent, whatever they were headed out to do. Some mysterious things happened last night. Very mysterious indeed."

_Mysterious? What does he mean by that? _

"You didn't happen to see which way they went, did you?"

"Headed west, they did. But by the looks of the fellow they left with, it doesn't seem like they won't stay on the East-West road for long."

I made a mental list of all the information I needed to remember: _Four hobbits. West. Staying off roads. Left with a man. _Wait...

"They left with someone? Who?" If my suspicions were right, it was probably a bounty hunter.

"Aye, a Ranger. Goes by the name Strider."

I hurried over to my bag, which I had dropped on the floor, and made sure everything was in order.

"Will that be all, miss?" He asked, a slight tone of disappointment in his voice.

I glanced over at him, trying to figure out what he wanted. As the realization washed over me, I dug though my bag and pulled out a few coins.

"Yes," I said, handing them to him. "Thank you for your help."

He nodded. "It was a pleasure, miss." With that, he left.

I set my Angel get-up on top of everything else in my bag, then wrapped up the bread and meat from my breakfast for later. I drank the milk quickly, brushed down my hair, and rushing downstairs to pay Mr. Butterbur. I tried to avoid all of his questions and get out as soon as possible.

Finally, I returned to where Tommy was tied and changed into my disguise. Pulling up the mask and hood, I mounted my horse and kicked her into a gallop. All I could think was one thought: Find the hobbits. It wasn't until Tomahawk slowed that I realized the ridiculous of it all.

I had never dealt with bounty hunters before, but I knew they were dangerous. What was I doing following four hobbits? What was I doing following four hobbits who were kidnapped by a bounty hunter? Were they even kidnapped? A better question was: If I was following them, what was I doing still on the road?

If my assumptions were correct, the bounty hunter took the hobbits off of the road by now. The only problem was, which way? North or south of the road? I turned Tommy around and backtracked, cursing myself for not thinking this trough.

After we had gone a ways, I hopped off my horse and tried to see if I could make out their tracks in the trodden dirt. Of course, twenty minutes, and a thoroughly confused Angel, came up with nothing. That was when I had my great epiphany: If they left the main path, I need to look for tracks leading _away_ from the trail, not tracks _on_ it.

"Zella, you're such an idiot," I muttered to myself as I backtracked again.

This time, luckily, I was able to find a barely visible track leading north of the path and disappearing into the trees. I whistled to Tomahawk and we sped off in search of hobbits.

I would like to say that I am a great tracker and I was able to catch up to the bounty hunter, incapacitate him, free the hobbits, and return them all safely to Bree before nightfall, but sadly that was not the case. The truth is, I lost the trail. Three times. In thirty minutes. Once, the trail led to a crossing at a stream but didn't pick up on the other side. It took me a solid minute and a half to realize that they had waded through the water and gotten out about half a mile upstream. Multiple times the trail doubled back or abruptly stopped, which accounts for the other times I lost it.

Whoever he was, this bounty hunter planned on being followed, which told me two things: 1) The hobbits were worth something to him or someone else, and 2) he wasn't planning on killing him. Both were simultaneously good and bad for me. On one hand, I wouldn't dead end at a pile of dead hobbits, but on the other hand, there might be others looking for the hobbits, or the bounty hunter might meet with someone. Either way, that meant more people out here. More people, more danger.

I sighed and continued trudging through the tall grass. I was knee deep in undergrowth, and as a result was being eaten alive by bugs. In the early afternoon, the day quickly became too hot for the hood and mask. I had been following them since daybreak and hadn't caught up to them yet. I was about to call it and give up when I heard a rustle and then a voice shushing someone. I hurriedly pulled up and mask and mount Tommy, getting ready for what would happen next.

There was a tense silence where nothing moved. I didn't breathe as Tomahawk shifted her weight nervously. A man leaped out from the trees, screaming and wielding a torch. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to laugh or run, so Tommy decided for me. She bolted, nearly tossing me, and took off. I yanked on the reins, trying to slow her down, or at least turn her around, but she wouldn't listen to me. She accidentally slammed my leg into a tree, pulling my foot out of the stirrup. I tried desperately to replace it, but she jumped a log before I could readjust and I fell. I laid on my back for a just a moment, waiting for the initial pain to subside so I could see if it was OK to get up and run. I took a few steadying breaths before pushing myself up and coming face to face with the bounty hunter.

**To my HA readers: This isn't what it looks like, I promise. **

**Stay tuned, and review, or I'll leave Zella in perpetual terror forever. **

**Oh! And I'm not sure if I want this to be a tenth walker story or not, so there's a poll up on my page. Let me know what you want. **


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